Be Our Guest
by Allaine
Summary: Emma has never actually SEEN Regina being a bad mother...
1. Chapter 1

Title: Be Our Guest (1/?)

Author: Allaine

Pairing: Emma/Regina

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Emma has never actually SEEN Regina being a bad mother...  
Spoilers: After 1x08, "Desperate Souls"

* * *

Chapter One

Emma and Regina sat without speaking for a minute, silently daring each other to give in and be the one to speak first. "So," Emma finally said, already getting bored, "are we going to try working together, or are you just going to undermine my authority at every turn?"

"I'm sorry, Sheriff Swan, but I was under the impression that's what YOU have been doing since you first arrived in my town. Isn't that why you ran against my own handpicked candidate?"

"Guess that's a 'no' on working together then," Emma muttered.

"You may have pulled the wool over everyone's eyes," Regina retorted, "and as an elected official your job is safe from me. But don't get the idea that this means you'll be able to take my son away from me."

Emma threw up her hands. "For the last time – one, he's my son too, and two, I'm not trying to take Henry away from you! If you want to blame someone here, blame yourself. If you were a better mother, maybe Henry wouldn't be sneaking away to see me three times a day."

Regina's eyes grew even colder, if that was possible. "If I was a better MOTHER?" She sneered at Emma. "Fine. Enlighten me. Tell me how I can be a better mother. You have an infinite well of personal experience to draw from, after all."

Emma scowled. "I can still tell a good parent apart from a bad one. It's called common sense."

"And you can tell how?"

"Well, there's . . . " Emma paused, stymied. Truth be told, she had never personally witnessed Regina ever being cruel or abusive to Henry. She had barely witnessed them interacting at all, in fact.

Regina's sneer became a smirk. "You can't think of anything, can you? Henry told you what a horrible mother I am, and you just accepted it, right?"

"So what, Henry LIES about you?" Emma shook her head. "I know when people are lying, and Henry isn't."

"He's TEN, Sheriff Swan. Ten-year-old boys tell their mothers they're mean if they don't buy them candy on a supermarket aisle! I realize you never had parents of your own, Swan, but in case you haven't noticed," Regina snapped, "parents spend a lot of time telling their children 'no'. I should be grateful Henry isn't a sixteen-year-old girl, I suppose."

"I can't think of any times I saw you being a GOOD mother either," Emma shot back. "In case YOU haven't noticed, whenever the three of us are in a room together, you're always trying to chase me away."

"Yes, well, if I allowed you to spend a day with us, you'd see that my son – "

"OUR son."

"Is exaggerating how horrible his life is…" Regina trailed off. Then she smiled humorlessly at Emma. "That's an excellent idea, actually. A distasteful one, but excellent nonetheless."

"What?" Emma asked, not liking her expression.

"You'll spend the day with us – no, two days – how about a week?"

Emma's jaw dropped, her wit deserting her. "Wha?"

"Yes, that would be best." Regina sighed. "You'll have to stay in the guestroom."

"I'm sorry, but did you say GUESTROOM?"

"Well, you know what they say about guests and fish," Regina said. "Although you'll start stinking after three minutes."

"Could you back up please?"

Regina rolled her eyes. "You will stay with us for one week, Sheriff Swan. You will get up when we do. You will eat breakfast with us. We will walk him to school. We will pick him up from school. We will spend the evening together. And we will put him to bed together. And you can decide for yourself just how miserable his life really is."

Emma still couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You actually think we could stand being around each other for an entire week?"

"I think it will be fun," Regina replied insincerely. "You probably live like a slob. I cannot wait for Henry to see that."

"I am NOT a slob!"

"You answered your door to a complete stranger in a T-shirt and panties, I seem to recall. I never knew Henry had redneck DNA."

Emma flushed bright red, remembering Regina and the basket of apples. "This is bullshit, Regina. You'll be Mrs. Brady and Donna Reed rolled into one as long as I'm there."

"Ask Henry. I'm sure he'll be HAPPY to tell you if I'm acting out of character," Regina said bitterly.

"And you're serious about this?" Emma asked slowly.

"You'll get a week of unfettered access to my – "

"If I agree to do this," Emma interrupted, "you're going to have to stop referring to him as YOUR son."

Regina glared at her. "Unfettered access to OUR son, then. And I'll be able to wipe that smirk off your face when you realize I'm a better mother than you could ever have been or will be."

Emma thought for a second. It was an insane idea, but Regina was right. It WOULD mean plenty of time with Henry, getting to see things she'd never seen before. Henry would be thrilled too. And maybe she did owe it to both Henry and Regina to get all the facts before she started throwing stones.

"All right," Emma said. "I'll do it."

"Wonderful," Regina replied, although Emma couldn't tell by the look on her face. "We'll meet again after school is out. And Sheriff Swan?"

"Yeah?"

"I hope you'll bring suitable sleepwear. I won't have you skipping around my home like Ellie Mae Clampett."

Emma sighed. "Yes, Ma."

Regina grumbled something profane and turned her back.

"Suitable," Emma muttered as she left the Mayor's office. "I'll show her suitable."

* * *

The look on Henry's face as his eyes swept around the interior of Regina's car, Emma thought, suggested that he expected a tiger to leap out from underneath the backseat cushions.

"Henry," Regina said from behind the wheel, exasperated, "get in the car before that annoying woman tells us we're parked in a loading zone."

Henry slowly got into the backseat next to Emma and closed the door.

"Thank you," Regina said, speeding away.

"Are you her prisoner?" Henry whispered.

Emma sighed. "No, I'm not her prisoner. I'm her guest."

Regina snorted.

Henry didn't look like he believed her. "In stories, that's what the bad guy always says their prisoner is."

What stories was he reading now, Ian Fleming?

"The sheriff will be staying at our house for the next week, Henry," Regina explained. "We both agreed that she should see for herself what kind of mother I am."

Henry just went on staring at Emma. "Huh?"

Emma shrugged her shoulders. "Your mother – ONE of your mothers – "

Regina mumbled something that sounded insulting.

"She wants to prove that you – and I, by extension - are wrong about her."

That seemed to make sense to Henry like nothing else did. "So this is some kind of test?"

"Essentially, yes," Regina said.

"She cheats," Henry muttered.

Emma couldn't miss the wounded look in Regina's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Regina says that you'll tell me if she tries to be too nice or too lenient with you," Emma pointed out.

Henry seemed to like that. "So you're going to live with us for a whole week?"

Emma smiled at him. "I'll be there when you wake up, and I'll be there when you fall asleep."

He finally smiled back at her. "This is so cool!"

Regina's eyes this time were firmly on the road in front of her.

Emma's smile slipped just a little. She'd have to warn Henry later that this wasn't going to be "pile on Regina" week. She was going to be completely fair about this. If Regina turned out to be just another "tiger mom", then Emma would have to accept that.

In the meantime, she was going to be able to get to know her son better. One thing which she had allowed Henry to do up until now was to go on and on about the curse. Sometimes it seemed like that was all he ever talked about. Maybe now Emma could learn about other things he cared about. Maybe they could have a conversation that didn't center around the Book.

"We'll be dropping Sheriff Swan off at the police station to pick up her car," Regina said tersely. "She will then go to Ms. Blanchard's apartment to pack a bag before meeting us at our house. Sheriff?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you cook?"

"I killed a toaster the other day."

Regina sighed. "Fine. I will cook for the group, and you will clean up after us. You will also be responsible for your own laundry. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Emma said quickly, not wanting Regina to have any kind of custody over her clothes.

Regina stopped at a light and turned around in her seat. "Won't this be fun, Henry?" she asked brightly.

"Yes," Henry replied, deigning to look at her as the smile vanished from his face.

Emma winced as Regina seemed to wilt, her smile becoming forced. Her gaze flickered over to Emma briefly, filled with a combination of loathing, frustration, and jealousy, before she turned forward again.

Yeah, she'd have a talk with Henry before this turned into the end of "War of the Roses".

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No," Emma admitted to Mary. "In fact, I'm sure it's NOT a good idea. It's a helluva risky thing to do, but risk equals reward, and the reward IS a good idea."

"I know you want to spend more time with Henry," Mary said over the phone, "but you'll be alone with him and Regina in that house every night. There's all sorts of ways Regina will try to tear you down."

"And that's different from last week how exactly?"

"Emma, do you think she's the only one being tested here? Regina is probably hoping that A. Henry will learn things about you that he won't like, or B. you'll think you can never be as good a mother as her."

Emma had to admit Mary had a point. "Yeah, but Henry will find out what my faults are sooner or later. And like I keep telling her, I'm not scheming to steal Henry away from her, so it doesn't matter who the better mother is."

"Yes, it does."

Emma sighed. Yeah, it did.

"Can't you wait until I get home from school?" Mary asked. "So we can discuss this further."

"No way am I backing out now," Emma said. "Henry will be disappointed and Regina will gloat. I have to pick up a few things on the way too. Besides, I can come by after Henry's in bed. I'm sure Regina will be thrilled to have me gone then."

"All right. Well, good luck then."

"Thanks." Hanging up, she glanced at her things. She'd packed everything she could think of, and if she forgot something, she could pick it up tonight. All she needed was to buy . . .

Ah yes. Something suitable for sleepwear. Something…classy.

* * *

"This will be your room for the next week," Regina said, showing her the bedroom with all the enthusiasm of an overworked museum attendant.

"Nice," Emma replied. Like everything else in this house, it was tasteful, stuffy and rather ornate.

"My room is two doors down the hall. I'll trust you to stay out."

"Like I want to see the room where you and Gr-"

Their bickering slammed into a halt. Emma felt a lump form in her throat. It was over two weeks now, and Emma had gotten good at not thinking about it, but every so often Graham's ghost leapt out at her like a Halloween lawn decoration.

"I'm sorry," Emma said to Regina, whose face had become deathly still and pale. "That was uncalled for."

"Yes," Regina said tightly. "It was."

Emma put her bag down on the bed. "Where is Henry's room?"

"The other end of the hall," Regina said as her face finally relaxed. "He's doing his homework. Follow me."

She bet Regina loved that. Giving commands and having her obey them.

Regina opened his door, letting Emma see him working at his desk. Henry had raced down to see her when she arrived at Regina's house, but after a minute Regina had sent him back to his room. "He's extremely intelligent, as you know, and he takes advanced courses for his age."

"So he's in class with older kids mostly."

Regina nodded, and Emma sighed. She was proud of the kid, and obviously he should be working at his skill level, but that must have isolated him even further from his peers.

"After he finishes his homework, he's allowed one hour of television," Regina continued.

Every fiber of Emma's being told her that this was a lie.

"Thirty minutes," Henry chimed in.

"See?" Regina said. "He'll have NO trouble keeping me honest."

_That was only a test of the Regina Mills Emergency Broadcast System._ "Give me a minute alone with Henry, okay? I want to go over a couple ground rules."

"Rules?" Regina asked, raising an eyebrow. "You have rules?"

Emma ground her teeth as Regina left the bedroom. Then she went over to Henry's desk and crouched down beside him.

"Is this about Operation Cobra?" Henry said, excited.

"No, uh . . . look, kid, as long as I'm staying here," Emma said quietly, "you need to ease up on Regina."

"What? Why? She's – "

"Yeah, I know, evil queen. But Henry, the longer you go on treating me like a rock star and Regina like a criminal, the angrier she's going to get. By Thursday morning she'll be putting scorpions in my bed and cyanide in my oatmeal." At least she knew she could smell cyanide. The life of a bondsperson was never humdrum.

Henry looked down. "I'm sorry. It's just hard. I hate her. She lies."

"About what?" Emma asked.

"I have to finish my homework," Henry said, changing the subject.

"Sheriff Swan," Regina said suddenly, reentering the room. "Let him do like he says. You can bare your soul to him later."

Emma frowned. Standing, she ruffled Henry's hair and turned to Regina. "Would it kill you to tone down the sarcasm for two seconds?"

Regina was silent for a few moments. Then she smiled. "There. Five seconds. Are you happy?"

"Whatever," Emma said, rolling her eyes and brushing past Regina. "And stop calling me Sheriff Swan when we're alone. It's so formal. You sound like a butler."

"Excuse me?" Regina asked as they walked back to the stairs.

"Yes, sir," Emma went on, affecting a British accent badly. "I've shown Sheriff Swan and Deputy Henderson to the library. Would you care for another brandy?"

From the look on Regina's face, she was positively scandalized that Emma had compared her to a servant. "Well, EMMA, I guess we're just not all as rude and uncouth as you. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were raised in a barn. In the Ozarks. Where did you buy that red jacket anyway? Walmart or Five Below?"

"Where did you get YOUR wardrobe?" Emma retorted. "Your mother's closet? You dress like Hillary Clinton."

Regina opened her mouth to respond, but she stopped. They faced each other in her foyer for a moment. Then she chuckled. "Fighting like schoolgirls in front of our son. Nice to know that you set as good an example for Henry as I do."

Emma flushed. "Well, obviously we bring out the worst in each other."

"Indeed. Well, excuse me while I slip into a pantsuit and then begin preparing dinner. I trust you can amuse yourself until then?"

It was only after Regina left that Emma realized she had made a joke that wasn't directed at her. Surreal. But maybe they could survive the week after all.

To be continued . . .


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Apparently for Regina, "pantsuit" was code for a pair of expensive-looking slacks and a cream-colored blouse. The ensemble looked like something any ordinary mortal would wear to work, and Regina RELAXED in that? Emma wagered she wouldn't find a single sweatshirt if she searched Regina's entire closet. The sudden image of Regina at the gym in pencil skirt and high heels made her snort.

"Sheriff, is – "

"Emma."

Regina sighed. "This correcting is getting old, EMMA. Is something amusing?"

"No, uh, I just thought of something. Nothing to do with you," Emma lied. Hey, just because she could tell a lie, it didn't mean she never told them herself.

"Mmm," Regina said suspiciously. She tugged at one of the strings of her apron. Just because she put on three hundred dollars of clothing when she got home, that didn't mean Regina was stupid enough to cook dinner without some kind of protection. Emma wondered what it said on the front. Kneel Before the Cook?

"Why don't you think of ways to amuse yourself somewhere else?" Regina added, still not bothering to turn and face Emma.

"I did. That's why I came here," Emma said, grinning.

Regina muttered something under her breath. Apparently Emma wasn't worth being insulted out loud.

"So what's your secret?" Emma asked.

"I'm madly in love with you."

Emma began coughing violently.

Regina chuckled. "See, I can amuse myself too," she jeered.

"Ha-ha," Emma grumbled. "No, I mean what products do you use?"

"Products?" Regina asked, sounding puzzled for once.

"Skin care products," Emma elaborated. "I saw those pictures in the hallway." Pictures of Henry at a younger age, including one of him as a toddler that had clenched her heart in a vice. "You don't look a day older than you did when Henry was still in diapers."

Regina didn't respond at first. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she said finally. "With your rough-and-tumble lifestyle, you'll be showing crow's-feet before you're forty."

"Rough and tumble?"

"Bail bonds, Emma. It's a dangerous job, isn't it? Chasing wanted felons who have nothing to lose? No backup? I bet you've had a broken bone or two."

Five, not that Emma felt like sharing that. "We can't all have it easy like you, Regina, sitting behind a desk all day. Or whatever the hell it was you did before you got elected. You look like a corporate law type."

Regina finally bothered to turn around. "For your information, not that it's your business, I was a housewife."

Emma blinked. "You were married?"

"You sound surprised."

"I'm surprised there's a man out there who you couldn't scare off."

Regina's eyes grew dark and cold. "My husband left me, SHERIFF. He disappeared. He could be dead for all I know. So go on, have a laugh at my expense."

Emma managed not to cringe. She hadn't realized she was making light of a sore subject. "Sorry, I didn't know."

"Hmph. Well, he was the mayor before me. So I took over his job on a temporary basis, and discovered I liked it. End of story."

Emma suddenly realized she had just learned more about Regina's past in two minutes than she had in the two months prior. "I've never been married."

"Will wonders never cease," Regina said, who by now had turned back to the stove.

Emma bristled.

"And yes, I know. Don't forget, I've read your file."

"You practically PUBLISHED my file."

Regina shrugged. "Negative advertising works. Ask any politician."

"Just not this time," Emma pointed out.

The mayor surprised her by chuckling. "You accused – without evidence, mind you – the town's wealthiest citizen of setting off some kind of booby trap in City Hall that could have killed you or I," Regina said. "That's about as negative as you can get."

Emma decided not to let Regina in on the secret that Mr. Gold had manipulated her into doing so. One, she thought it was safer if Regina thought Gold had a grudge against her. Two, it was DEFINITELY safer if Regina didn't know about Emma owing him a "favor". And three, it was embarrassing. "Did you believe what I said at the debate?"

"Yes," Regina said immediately. "You wouldn't have said it if you weren't sure, he didn't deny it like an innocent man would have, and it's something he would stoop to." She paused and turned her head slightly. "I trust you more than I trust him. Which isn't saying much."

Maybe not, but it still shocked Emma that Regina would say it out loud. "Well, um, the same goes for you, I guess."

Regina seemed to be on the edge of saying something more, but she turned away instead.

One other thing Emma didn't feel like sharing – dinner was starting to smell goddamn delicious. While Emma always burned her Pop-Tarts. Finding things that Regina was better at definitely sucked.

* * *

"Can you believe there's no beer in that house?" Emma asked, her voice muffled by the fact that she was kneeling in front of the open refrigerator. She reached behind a Tupperware container and gave a happy sigh as she pulled out a six-pack with one empty space in the carton. "I watched Regina knock back two whole glasses of wine without slurring a single word, but I guess beer is too blue-collar for Madame Mayor."

"You seem upset," Mary said as Emma popped the cap off one of the bottles against her kitchen counter.

Emma sighed. "Stuffed is more like it. Would you have believed Regina can cook?"

"Well, she's a single mother, I'd imagine that's something she would need to know."

"Yeah, but she cooks REALLY well. She made spaghetti, and this homemade tomato sauce . . . " Emma shook her head. "It was delicious, and me? I once melted a saucepan."

Mary blinked. "How could you melt – Emma, this is exactly what I warned you about. She wants you to feel like you can't measure up to her."

"She's winning," Emma muttered. "My job tonight was to fill a dishwasher. Something even an illegal immigrant who doesn't speak English can do."

"Yes, but Henry – you think HE cared? I'm guessing he never took his eyes off you throughout dinner."

Emma finally smiled. "Pretty much, yeah. He had a thousand things to say. What he saw in the schoolyard today, what he read about in class, what was on television tonight."

Whereas Regina might as well have not been there. Emma's good humor vanished as quickly as it appeared. No wonder she drank that much wine. She had sat quietly at the table while her son – their son acted like she didn't exist. Emma wondered when the last time he talked about school with her was. Months? Years?

Of course Regina despised her. If the positions were reversed, Emma would despise Regina too.

Emma suddenly wondered if this was the real source of Regina's determination to run her out of town. Regina kept accusing her of wanting to take Henry away from her, and Emma kept telling her she was being paranoid. Only, Regina was losing Henry to her anyway. Emma may not have had physical custody, but she was gaining custody of his heart.

"Uh oh, I know that look," Mary said.

"What look?" Emma said defensively.

"That look you get when you're thinking of doing something noble and self-sacrificing, like at the debate," Mary replied. "Don't you go feeling sorry for Regina now."

"I don't!" Emma retorted. "For HER? Please. Maybe, MAYBE just a little, but that's it."

Mary just looked at her until it dawned on Emma that she had admitted it without meaning to. "I'm not giving up on my son, if that's what you're worried about."

"Just don't let Regina see how you feel. She'll capitalize in an instant, she'll let a few crocodile tears fall, and you'll be offering to leave Storybrooke that very minute."

"I don't feel bad for her when we're together," Emma assured her. "She pisses me off too much. Although I do manage to put my foot in my mouth around her. I made a joke about how she scared men off, and she thought I was taunting her over her ex-husband abandoning her."

"Regina can be very thin-skin . . . her ex-husband?"

"Yeah, I never would have guessed she was married once."

Mary furrowed her brow. "I don't – remember her having a husband."

Emma shrugged. "Said he was the mayor before her."

"Oh, that must be it," Mary said. "I didn't know her then. As far back as I remember, she's been the mayor, but I didn't pay much attention to politics when I was younger."

"What DID you do when you were younger?" Emma asked, curious.

Mary paused. "Oh, this and that. Nothing exciting. I've lived a very sheltered life."

This must be where Henry got the idea that people in town had no memories of their past. Mary didn't look like she'd ever been a hellraiser. She didn't even look like a heckraiser. Emma couldn't believe an entire town could simply not NOTICE they couldn't remember their childhood.

Remember . . .

"Mary, what time is it?"

"Um, 9:15, I think."

"Crap," Emma said. "I missed '2 Broke Girls'."

Regina had better have On Demand.

* * *

Historically Emma had a pretty good alarm system. She got up when the sun came through the window and hit her directly in the eyes. Since moving to Storybrooke, more often than not it was a gentle shake from Mary Margaret, or perhaps the smell of coffee she was brewing.

On Tuesday morning, Regina pounded on her door.

Emma opened one eye. It was still dark outside. She glanced at the clock. The alarm hadn't gone off, probably because she'd set it for an hour from then. She groaned. "What?"

"I warned you, _Emma_. You get up when we get up." Emma could visualize Regina's smarmy look on the other side of the closed door.

"What am I, Private Benjamin?" Emma grumbled.

"This is what single mothers do, Ms. Swan. They get up at the crack of dawn so they can make sure their children are ready to face the world."

_Twist that knife, Regina, like you haven't twisted it eight hundred times already._

"I've already showered. I would suggest you hurry, Emma. Fortunately there shouldn't be much hot water left anyway."

Emma clutched at the air above her, imagining it was Regina's neck.

* * *

"Do you always get up that early?" Emma asked, rubbing her eyes yet again as she walked Henry to school. Regina had wanted the three of them to drive there together, but Henry had "helpfully" pointed out that he always walked alone, and Emma had "reminded" Regina that they weren't supposed to deviate from the norm. Regina, who hadn't even bothered with coffee because Terminators never got tired, had made a noise like an angry housecat and left separately.

"Yeah," Henry said. "School starts pretty early. Wasn't your school like that?"

Emma had never been punctual at her schools, all eleven of them. The foster system and the homes they chose had sucked at keeping a schedule. Eventually by high school she had stopped caring, which might have contributed to the whole "giving birth in prison" thing. "Things were different back then," she said evasively, only realizing after she spoke how old that made her sound.

"What do you think so far?"

"Of what?"

"What I live with."

Emma hesitated. "It's a little too soon for me to say."

"Tonight is worse," Henry muttered. "Piano lessons every Tuesday and Thursday."

Ugh. Not something she regretted missing as a child. "So you're taking classes with older kids."

Henry nodded, looking doleful.

"I'm proud of you. You're really smart to be doing something like that."

"I guess," Henry said. "In my old classes the other kids didn't like that I was always the one getting called on. But now it happens in my new classes, and the older students don't like it either."

Yikes. But it wasn't like she could tell him to dumb it down a little in class. He belonged in a good college someday. Most parents didn't dream of their child becoming a bail bondsman one day. Even her nonexistent parents probably wouldn't have dreamed of that.

Before she could follow up, though, Henry went on to say, "So, about Operation Cobra."

Emma would rather have talked more about school, but evidently Henry would not.

"We need to think of ways to break up Prince Charming's marriage so he can get back together with Snow White."

"Uh, what?" Emma asked blankly. "You want to break up David and Kathryn?" Mary was probably the one to talk to on that subject.

"Duh, David and Ms. Blanchard belong together. They can't be your parents otherwise."

Biologically speaking, they couldn't be her parents at all, but Emma had learned there was little use pointing it out. "That wouldn't be right, Henry. We need to let David work out who he wants to be with on his own." Even if sometimes she wanted to lock David and Mary in a holding cell together for twenty-four hours and let them hash it out.

"There's got to be ways to make Kathryn look bad. Don't police officers have files on people?"

Emma stopped. "First of all, yes, but only on criminals. And second, even if she did have a file, it wouldn't be right to use it against her. I'm the town sheriff, not J. Edgar Hoover."

"Who?"

"Imagine if Mr. Gold ran the U.S. government."

"Oh. Yeah, that wouldn't be good."

That reminded her. "Henry, when I was running for Sheriff, you told me that Gold was worse than your mother. I'm inclined to agree now, but why? From your point of view, how could he be worse if she's the Evil Queen, the one who cast the curse?"

Henry didn't answer.

"He's in the Book, right? Who is he in the Book?"

"I'm not totally sure," Henry finally said. "I thought he might have been King Midas, because he has so much money and his name is Gold. But Midas was Abigail's father, and Abigail is Kathryn, and I don't think Gold and Kathryn are related."

Emma shuddered at the thought.

"I have a new theory," Henry continued, "but it's from a book, not THE Book."

"Okay, good, that's good, you can't always rely on one source of information," Emma said. "What did it say?"

"It was a regular old book of fairy tales, and it mentioned Rumplestiltskin. You know, straw into gold?"

"Right," Emma said slowly. As she recalled, the girl in that story had to give Rumplestiltskin . . . her unborn child.

Okay, that was creepy.

"Plus," Henry added, "it says how Rumplestiltskin died. It says he got so mad that he stomped on the floor really hard, and he made a hole in the floor and got stuck. When he tried to pull his foot out, he tore his own leg off instead."

"And Mr. Gold walks with a limp," Emma realized.

Henry nodded. "THE Book talks about Rumplestiltskin too. He did a LOT of really bad things, until Snow White and Prince Charming locked him in a dungeon." He paused. "If it IS him, and you don't want to give him his memories back, maybe I'd be all right with that."

Sometimes, Emma thought, it was really easy to forget this was all fantasy.

To be continued . . .


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Once Henry was in bed, Regina's home became a place of solitude. She could pour a glass of wine, work in her study for a couple hours, and catch her beauty sleep without any interruptions. The house was still, quiet, peaceful. Regina could hear a mouse before it took three steps (and kill it brutally but efficiently before it took ten).

She could definitely hear a television set.

Regina's eyes narrowed as she heard the unmistakable sound of canned laughter. It was unthinkable that Henry was the culprit, which left Ms. Swan. (Oh, she might be Sheriff Swan now, but she'd never be Sheriff to Regina. Not in her head.) Regina thought they had an excellent system worked out last night. Once Henry was asleep, Regina retreated to her study while Emma went out. They hadn't heard or seen each other the rest of the night.

Naturally Ms. Swan had to upset the apple cart. Like she had the apple tree. Getting up from her desk, Regina stormed out of her office and down the hall toward the living room. What she found offended the very image of what the Mills house should be like.

Emma Swan sat on HER couch, watching HER television. Her back was to Regina, but her left arm snaked along the top of the cushions, clutching HER – was that a BEER? Regina never served that swill in her home. Wine was dignified, and spirits were appropriate when something stronger was called for. Beer was for riffraff and peons.

Regina looked at the TV screen. On it, a voluptuous young brunette, wearing a garish yellow waitress' uniform that even Ruby wouldn't be caught dead in, was bickering with a scrawny blonde.

"_If men were the ones who got periods, tampons would be thrown from floats like Mardi Gras beads."_

A cheap, tawdry joke, which naturally Ms. Swan appreciated. Her lip curled on pure instinct. Moving forward, Regina prodded her with one insistent finger. "Sheriff."

"Ye-agh!" Her tormentor nearly rolled off the couch, she was so surprised. Thankfully for the carpet, she managed to save her beer. "Jesus Christ, Regina! What the fuck?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm watching television, what do you THINK I'm doing?" Emma asked rhetorically as she settled back onto the couch.

"I can see that! Must you make such a racket?" Regina retorted.

Emma looked disbelievingly at her. "The volume is at 25%, and I'm not much for belly laughs. I think you're exaggerating."

Regina snorted. "What is this crap, anyway?"

"It's, uh, '2 Broke Girls'. I missed it last night, so I'm watching it On Demand." As if to prove it, Emma began rewinding it to the point Regina tapped her.

"Let me get this straight," Regina said. "You like this garbage so much that you can't even miss one episode."

"It's not garbage, it's funny. And it's popular too," Emma said. "You've never heard of it? Let me guess, you only watch PBS and the History Channel."

"For your information, I don't watch television," Regina informed her.

Emma continued to look amazed by the words leaving Regina's mouth. "You don't watch TV? At all? Then why do you have a television set?"

"For Henry, of course. I'm not an ogre."

"No, ogres have layers, and you're a bitch all the way through," Emma snapped.

Regina could feel her nostrils flare, as if she was an actual dragon breathing out smoke. She didn't understand the reference – ogres had layers of dirt, maybe – but she certainly knew when she was being insulted. "Turn it off. Now."

"No," Emma said.

"NO?"

"I'm a guest, remember? You're not being a very good host."

"Guests normally do not provoke their hosts either!"

Emma sighed. "Look, I'm sorry I called you a bitch. But I'm finishing my show. You can go back to your office, or you can relax a little, pull the stick out of your ass, and watch the rest with me."

Regina glared at her. "Fine," she said at last. "I'll never get anything done anyway with you laughing like a hyena. But it goes off afterwards."

"Fine, whatever," Emma replied, shrugging. She took a swig from her beer bottle.

"And where did you get that?"

"I bought it."

"Just take it with you when you leave, if you have any left."

Emma coughed. "Uh, yeah, no, I'll probably buy more before the week is out."

Regina shook her head and sat on the couch. It was then that she noticed what Emma was wearing. Her eyes popped.

"I bought this too," Emma said cheekily, noticing where Regina was looking. "You said no Ellie Mae Clampett."

"I didn't mean for you to dress like a madam either," Regina said, scandalized.

Emma was wearing a silk red nightgown with a matching dressing robe. It looked expensive, high-end, not something you acquired at a Target. It wasn't revealing, and it wasn't too short. It was still extremely provocative. It was something you put on right before you lit the candles and scattered the rose petals.

"Guess I'm not the flannel type," Emma replied, smirking.

Regina made a disgusted noise. "Don't wear that around Henry."

"Of course not," Emma said, annoyed. She hit PLAY before Regina could respond.

"This is vulgar," Regina said five minutes later. "It's not funny, and it tries to hide that fact behind edgy dialogue and risqué, oversexualized juvenilia, like schoolboys sniggering during recess as they huddle over pictures of a naked woman."

Emma had paused it again in mid-rant. "I know you can't WAIT to reassert your superiority over me, but would you mind waiting until there's a commercial? I can't hear them over your ego."

"Oh, so you don't agree?"

"It's . . . a little vulgar," Emma admitted.

Regina pointed at the screen. "That woman – "

"Max."

"Is pretending to smoke a tampon!"

Emma shrugged. "They can't all be Family Ties."

Regina sighed.

The worst part, however, came a minute later.

"_Wait until you see Occupy Tampons. We only protest once a month, but it's an intense five to seven days."_

The laugh surprised her, bubbling up unexpectedly from within. It almost slipped out, but with a Herculean effort, she managed to swallow it, turning it into a clearing of the throat.

Regina glanced at Emma. The smug grin told her she wasn't fooled. The mayor flushed, said nothing, and excused herself to get a glass of water. "Don't bother pausing it."

When she exited the bathroom and returned to the living room, Regina was angered to find that Ms. Swan was now watching a completely different show. "What's this now?"

"Shh, 'Storage Wars'," Emma said without taking her eyes off the TV screen.

"We agreed that when your dirty little sitcom was over – "

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I saw it was on."

"Emma – "

"Ten minutes. I bet you can't stop watching after ten minutes."

"I am certainly not – "

"Backing down from a challenge?"

Regina growled and sat.

Ten minutes later she halfheartedly glanced back at the hallway. "I should get back to work."

"Oh, so you don't want to know if Brandi's locker is worth more than Jarrod's?"

Brandi, as it turned out, was the clear winner. Regina had her own triumph at last, when she stealthily stole the remote from where Emma left it. Seeing another episode was about to start, she swiftly turned the TV off before it sucked her in with its – however it sucked her in, it wasn't happening again.

Emma chuckled. "Sorry. I have a book upstairs."

"Henry has crayons if you need them."

It was Emma who scowled at her now. Regina smirked.

"Let me ask you something," Emma said then. "Is Henry in advanced classes because he needs it, or because you want him to?"

Regina blinked, thrown by the non sequitur. "He got nothing but straight A's. I thought he would appreciate the added challenge."

"I think he'd appreciate a few friends more."

"Excuse me if I think the most important thing our son can get from school is a top-notch education, not a couple pals."

"Regina, I don't know if you even remember high school, but in my experience, the kids whose families have the most wealth and power are usually among the most popular students. Other kids gravitate toward them because they have the coolest stuff, the biggest houses, and the nicest cars."

"You sound envious."

"I was in and out of foster homes," Emma reminded her. "I was envious of everybody. No one seems envious of Henry, though. Why do you think it is that other kids avoid him at school?"

Regina sneered. "Let me guess, it's my fault."

"It is, actually," Emma said, and Regina snorted. "Most people are afraid of you, Mayor Mills, and their children pick up on that. They're not going to have anything to do with this family. And you only make it worse by putting him in classes with older students. Don't you realize you're isolating him from everyone else?"

"So I should just let him waste his potential in easy classes," Regina said, ignoring the tight feeling in her chest. Of course she realized she was isolating him. What was the point in letting him make friends? He'd only outgrow them all.

It was galling to admit that she had an imperfect understanding of how the Curse worked when she cast it. She had assumed the aging process would stop for anyone within city limits. She had assumed Henry would remain a baby forever – needing her totally, loving her unconditionally, blissfully ignorant that Storybrooke was stuck in time.

Instead, to her dismay, he had started growing.

The curse also prevented the townspeople from noticing that time had stopped, and for the longest time, she assumed THAT portion of the curse worked on him. Ever since he got that damned Book, though – perhaps he had realized. Perhaps that contributed to him hating her.

Whether he noticed or not, the fact remained that he would grow older, and other kids would not. It would be better for him if he never wondered why his best friend was suddenly three years younger than him. She wasn't altogether proud of this fact, but she had subtly thwarted every attempt he'd ever made to become more than acquaintances with someone.

It would be better for him in college. He would have to leave Storybrooke for a first-rate university, and for the first time he'd be able to have the same classmates four years in a row. He'd meet a girl. She wouldn't approve, of course, but he'd marry her anyway, and live somewhere far from Maine. And perhaps absence would make his heart grow fonder for her.

"I'm not saying that. I don't know what I'm saying. I can tell you're trying."

Regina almost missed those last few words, and she felt shock when she processed them.

Emma just nodded and stood up. "I just think you're trying WAY too hard."

It wasn't until the guest bedroom door closed that Regina moved. How dare THAT WOMAN judge her.

_You invited her here precisely for that reason. You asked to be judged. Almost like you care._

The errant thought made Regina grind her teeth. She didn't care what Emma thought of her. She just wanted her to be wrong.

Further work was pointless. Regina quietly went upstairs, hoping to fall asleep immediately.

That, however, proved difficult. Especially with the 'Storage Wars' theme stuck in her head. _Money owns this t- goddamnit!_

* * *

Regina noted with some satisfaction Wednesday morning that, once again, Emma's bedroom door was closed. "Shame, shame, Sheriff," she murmured. "I guess you're not cut out for this life."

For the second straight morning, she pounded on the door with the heel of her palm. "For God's sake, Emma," she said loudly. "Do I need to schedule a wake-up call for you?"

"What?"

Regina paused. That detestable voice hadn't come from the other side of the door. It had come from . . . downstairs.

She scowled. She so hated it when Emma defied her expectations. She'd been doing that for all of Storybrooke since she arrived, and it would only upset everyone more on the day she inevitably let everyone down all.

Everyone except her, of course. She loved being proven right.

Entering the kitchen, Regina discovered that not only was Emma up and dressed, but she had even made coffee and poured cereal for Henry. "I thought you couldn't cook," she said.

"I can brew just fine," Emma said, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

The corner of Regina's lip curved upwards. Waiting for Emma to look her way again, she faked a yawn.

Emma's answering yawn was clearly NOT faked, and much louder.

Regina chuckled.

Instead of bristling, though, Emma just smiled sheepishly. "Breakfast of champions," she said, raising her coffee mug and drinking.

She didn't even get annoyed. Well, that was no fun.

* * *

"Is this a trick?" Emma asked that night. "I've eaten here many times, and I don't remember seeing you two have dinner here once."

"It's not a trick," Regina said calmly. "Granted, it doesn't happen often, but sometimes I don't feel like cooking, and Granny's Diner has the best food in Storybrooke." She looked down at Henry, obviously daring him to deny it.

Henry sighed. "It's true," he said. Emma thought he was going to add something, but whatever it was, he held it back.

Ruby came over to where they waited. "Mayor," she said, as casual with Regina as she was with everyone else. "Table for two?"

"Three," Regina replied.

Ruby blinked. Then she craned her head to look over Regina's shoulder.

"Ruby," Emma said. "The three of us."

"Riiight," Ruby said. "You and the Mayor. At the same table."

Regina glared at her. "Are you going to seat us, or NOT?"

Shaking her head, Ruby grabbed some menus and brought them to a table in the center of the diner. "I'll be back in a minute," she said before vanishing into the kitchen at high speed.

Emma shrugged. "I guess we do make an odd dinner party."

"Indeed," Regina said, reading the menu.

"What?"

All three of them looked up. It had come from the kitchen, and sounded suspiciously like Ruby's grandmother.

Regina muttered something to herself and retreated behind her menu again.

As Ruby took their orders, still looking at them like they were from the planet Neptune, the Diner slowly filled up. Emma couldn't help but notice that everyone who walked in seemed to find her table endlessly fascinating. "I feel like a museum exhibit."

"Why, because you're old and wrinkled?"

"At least I'm not the one carved out of stone," Emma shot back.

Henry snorted. Emma was a little troubled by how much that had sounded like his adoptive mother.

"Well, it's obviously you," Regina said. "We're not treated like a spectacle when it's just Henry and myself."

"Maybe if we got along a little better, people wouldn't react this way."

Regina's smile was bright and utterly false. "Why, Sheriff, that's very ambitious of you. Expecting to still be in town the next time Henry and I eat here. But we both know you never stay in one place THAT long, don't we?"

Emma wondered if it would be bad form for the local Sheriff to stab the mayor in the hand with a fork. "Who knows?" she asked. "Maybe I'll be here long enough to run for YOUR job."

"I bet you'd win, Mom," Henry replied.

"Thanks, Henry," Emma said, continuing to stare into Regina's eyes as her smile shriveled and died.

Fortunately, Ruby chose that moment to arrive with their dinner before Regina could stomp on Emma's foot with a stiletto heel.

Regina regarded Emma's cheeseburger distastefully. "I hope there will be leftovers," she said. "If you continue eating dinner like you have the past two nights, my cupboards will be bare."

"I think your food budget can handle it," Emma grumbled. "Besides, it's not my fault you cook for ten."

Henry just ignored the endless sniping back and forth and ate his chicken fingers.

Even Mary-Margaret seemed to be taken aback when she came in, and she KNEW Emma was staying at Regina's house. "Et tu, Mary?" Emma asked when she came over to their table.

"Emma, Henry. Mayor," Mary added, almost like an afterthought.

"Ms. Blanchard," Regina said.

Emma thought Regina hated her, but she realized that was nothing compared to the utterly poisonous stare that Mary was currently receiving.

Mary seemed to wilt under her glare. "I'll just, uh, go to my table," she said, before hurrying to the back of the diner where Ruby waited.

"What is your problem?" Emma hissed.

"What?"

"She is my friend and your son's favorite teacher, and you treat her like dirt! What did she ever do to you?"

Regina looked like her head was about to pop. "I don't know, Sheriff. Maybe I just don't like her taste in _reading materials_."

Emma rubbed the bridge of her nose. She could feel a headache coming on. "I'm going to speak to her for a minute. Maybe, I don't know, make her feel _welcome_."

"Well, the little doormat should know _all_ about welcome," Regina snapped as Emma got up.

"You have no people skills, do you?" she heard Henry ask Regina as she left.

* * *

"Sorry about that," Emma said as she sat across from Mary. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Mary replied unconvincingly. "I just wish I knew what she has against me."

"Has she always been like that with you?"

"For as long as I can remember."

"Huh," Emma said. "She implied it was because you gave Henry the Book."

"Well, I'm sure she didn't like me any MORE because of that," Mary said. "But I don't regret it. He needed an escape."

Emma looked down at her hands. "Yeah, well, uh, about that. I thought I should warn you."

"Warn me? About the mayor?"

"No, um, about Henry. See, he's gotten the idea that you're Snow White – "

"Right."

"And David is Prince Charming."

Mary's cheeks turned red. "Oh?"

"And since Snow White and Prince Charming are supposed to be together, he wanted me to help break up David's marriage."

"Wh-what?" Mary asked after a brief silence.

Emma sighed. "I'm just saying, don't be shocked if he comes up to you after class one day with plans for Operation Homewrecker."

"Oh. Oh, yes, of course, sure," Mary said. "Because it would be wrong to interfere in David and Kathryn's marriage."

_Poor Mary._

"Where did you get that Book, anyway?" Emma asked, trying to change the subject. "It looks really old. I hope it wasn't some kind of family heirloom."

Mary laughed weakly. "No, nothing like that. Actually, I hadn't owned it for more than a month. I bought it at the pawnshop."

"Mr. Gold's pawnshop?" Emma asked, for some reason getting an unpleasant tingle at the base of her spine. Maybe because she didn't enjoy the thought of Henry owning _anything_ that had once belonged to Gold.

"Well, we don't exactly have a Barnes & Noble yet," Mary pointed out.

"True," Emma said. "Well, I guess it's true, I don't . . . actually, I would have had no idea if Storybrooke has one or not if you hadn't told me." It was rather embarrassing, now that she thought about it. She was the new town sheriff, and there were still parts of the area that she'd never visited.

"Storybrooke doesn't really have much in the way of chain stores," Mary said. "The City Council has always opposed them. Something about 'spoiling the quaint, historic beauty of our home'. Something like that."

"And by the City Council, you mean Regina."

"Who else?"

"Uh-huh." Emma pondered that. She certainly didn't believe in a Curse, but she did wonder about Regina. It was almost like she was trying to hide Storybrooke from the world around it. Which made no sense, you couldn't do that in the modern world.

Unless like Henry, you believed that nobody ever came, and nobody ever left.

If Emma wasn't careful, she might find herself believing all this hocus-pocus talk before she knew it.

To be continued . . .


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Regina had been hoping for an attentive audience at the diner. When the townspeople saw their beloved new Sheriff having dinner with the Mayor who had so recently opposed her, they would reach the logical conclusion that the two women had become political allies, much as Regina and Graham had been. Not only that, but it had been the sheriff who submitted. If you knew anything about the mayor, it was that she never backed down easily, if at all. Since Emma Swan had been in office for no more than a week, she HAD to have been the one to blink first.

The knowledge that Emma Swan had been so easily co-opted by the local power structure and had fallen into line would quell any possible rebellious thoughts and remind the good people of Storybrooke that it was always best to just do as the mayor said.

Regina got her audience, but they reached what she – and Emma – would have considered a most illogical conclusion.

When Emma got up from the table and went to speak with Mary in her rear booth, the other patrons had a few minutes to talk amongst themselves. A typical, if somewhat R-rated, conversation centered around the bar.

"I guess it's true what they say," Ruby observed. "There IS a thin line between love and hate."

"I think you're reading a lot more into this than the situation merits," Dr. Hopper said. "Henry – "

"What about Henry?" Granny asked.

Archie sighed. "Without divulging any private conversations, Henry said that this is some kind of battle of wills, a competition to see who the better mother is."

"Please, doc," Leroy said to his right. He chortled as he lifted a drink to his lips. "What else are they going to tell the twerp?"

"What else who is going to tell who?" the woman on Leroy's right asked, bewildered.

Ruby shook her head. Even with those coke-bottle glasses, Candace could barely see two feet in front of her. Plus she was always wool-gathering. No wonder she worked for the phone company. "Mayor Mills and the new Sheriff have been eating dinner with the mayor's son tonight."

"They'll be eating something different after they get home," Leroy cracked.

"Leroy!" Granny hissed.

"What exactly are you implying?" Archie asked.

"Not implying anything, Hopper. The mayor and the sheriff told the kid that because they couldn't tell him they're dancing the horizontal mambo together."

"For God's sake, Leroy, get your mind out of the gutter!" Granny warned him.

"Why not?" Ruby asked. "I'd tap that. I'd tap both of that."

"Ruby!"

"Tap what?" Candace asked.

Leroy opened his mouth, but Granny glared at him and he said nothing.

"Personally, I think we should celebrate their having dinner together," Granny went on to say. "Emma wouldn't simply roll over for Regina Mills, not after what she said about – "

"The Gimp," Leroy interjected.

"About Mr. Gold," Granny said, ignoring him. "So If the mayor and the sheriff have reached some kind of understanding, then perhaps Emma will have some real power in this town, rather than just being an extension of City Hall. I mean, Sheriff Graham was a sweet man – "

"But he did what he was told," Ruby said. "Isn't that right, Sidney?"

Sidney Glass, who had sat mutely to Dr. Hopper's left, grunted. No one had failed to notice that he had taken the embarrassment of losing the sheriff's race hard, or that he hadn't been seen in Regina's company much lately. "If I'd known sleeping with the mayor was a prerequisite of the job, maybe I wouldn't have ran in the first place." Whatever the mayor and Graham may have believed, their affair had been a poorly-kept secret.

"If sleeping with the sheriff is a perk of being mayor, maybe I should run," Leroy replied, grinning.

"If Emma and Regina could settle their differences," Archie said, "it would be better for everyone. Especially their son."

"All little boys and girls are a gift," Candace observed.

"Sure," Leroy said. "Henry could have two mommies. And we all know what THAT's code for."

"I'm cutting you off," Granny muttered.

It was at that point that Emma made her way back to the mayor's table, and conversation came to a stop. Candace paid her check and left. Ruby watched her go. Damn, why were eyeglasses so sexy on a woman? Too bad Candace Gummer was skinny as a rail, she ate like a bird.

* * *

"It has come to my attention," Emma said as she sat back down, "that I don't know Storybrooke as well as I should."

"Well, I'm very disappointed in you, Sheriff," Regina replied, although she was actually more disappointed that she hadn't been the one to point it out first. "We're not a major city like Boston is, but we're not a village either. Still, you should have learned everything it has to offer by NOW."

"Since I'm going to be staying here for a VERY long time," Emma told them, earning a bright smile from Henry and a disbelieving sneer from the Mayor, "I agree. What do people do for fun around here?"

"Fun?"

"Yeah, fun, Regina. Maybe you've heard of it. And not the kind you get from terrorizing the local population."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "I hope you're not referring to the kind you get from overimbibing. I realize a single girl doesn't have a lot of options - "

"Really, Regina? Really? You're going to throw that in my face?" Emma asked. "Pot calling kettle?"

The Mayor's expression grew colder, but Henry interrupted. "There's the drive-in."

Emma looked confused. "You mean like McDonald's?"

"No, a drive-IN. You know, a movie theater?"

"You have a _drive-in movie theater_ here?"

"For heaven's sake, Emma," Regina said. "You say that like we have an alligator farm."

"No, I just – I didn't realize there were any still around," Emma said quietly.

"Well, not a lot of people go," the Mayor informed her. "The owner isn't exactly up with the times."

"I guess not, if he's operating a drive-in."

"She means he only shows old movies there," Henry said.

"Yes," Regina confirmed. "I don't believe he's shown a new movie since the 1980s."

"Twenty-eight years ago," Henry added.

Regina frowned. Trust her son to pick up on that.

"Wow," Emma said. "We've so got to check that out after dinner."

"We? Excuse me, Sheriff, but you are free to visit there by yourself. But Henry has school tomorrow."

"Oh, come on, it's not even 7:30. We can just go over there and see what's playing. And then I can come back another time."

Regina had the unpleasant feeling that "I" was code for "Henry and I". She had a mental image of the two of them sitting together, watching the movie, eating popcorn, having the perfect mother-son moment.

A moment which, she realized, had eluded her all this time.

"Fine," she said, forcing a smile. "We'll drive there after dinner then. Not that I have any idea what's playing. It could be 'La Dolce Vita' and 'Casablanca' for all I know."

"Ghandi and Goonies."

Regina and Emma both looked up, surprised to find Ruby standing over them. "I beg your pardon?" Regina asked.

"Nappy's in the G's now," Ruby explained patiently. "He's showing 'Ghandi' and 'The Goonies' now." She smiled knowingly. "I go there a lot."

Hmph. Ruby might even see a movie on occasion there, Regina thought. Given enough time – and of course, Ruby would have all the time in the world – she might sleep her way through the whole town. "And what," she asked distastefully, "is a Goonie?"

Emma stared at her. "You've never seen 'The Goonies'? What am I saying, of course you've never seen 'The Goonies'. You've probably been an adult since the day you were born."

She had no idea.

"Is it good?" Henry piped up.

Emma groaned. "And for a minute I thought our son wasn't deprived. Tonight or another night, Henry, I'm taking you to see it," she said, confirming Regina's suspicion. "It'll be right up your alley."

"Tonight then," Regina said.

Henry's jaw dropped slightly.

"But we'll go home first and pick up your pajamas, young man."

Emma, meanwhile, looked almost impressed in spite of herself.

_And if this movie is anything like '2 Broke Girls', Miss Swan, I'll bury you out there._

* * *

Ruby casually headed back to the bar.

"Well?" Archie asked.

"Nothing," she said slyly. "They're just going to the movies after this."

Leroy grinned. "I think we all know why the mayor never married. 'Cause it ain't legal in Maine."

Archie scratched the back of his head. "I never thought – who could have predicted this?"

"All I know is," Leroy said, "I'm not missing this for the world." He pulled out his wallet and threw some money on the bar. "I'm goin' to the movies too. I'll save you guys a seat."

Ruby sighed. She'd have to wait until morning to hear all the juicy details – and then spread them like pollen.

* * *

"I thought you said not many people go to that theater," Emma said after she'd tucked a practically comatose and very heavy Henry into his bed. "There must have been twenty or thirty people there tonight."

"I do not know why," Regina said, trying to get a handle on her temper.

Emma took one look at her face and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry he stayed up late night – "

"Don't play your games with me," Regina snarled. "I know what you were trying to pull."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Forgive me for having an idea for Henry to have fun. Next time I'll let you have the plan."

"I know why you wanted him to see that movie!"

"Because . . . it's awesome?"

"Because of that woman! The mother! Oh please," she said, her voice rich with sarcasm. "You just wanted Henry to identify with the boys in that movie, being chased about by an evil villainess who goes by 'Mama'. Just a sly little dig at me, wasn't it? Look, Henry, it's a movie about your life and the mother you despise!"

Emma stared at her.

"_What?_" Regina finally screeched.

"Sorry, I'm just trying to decide if I should chalk this up to you being self-centered, or you being really, really paranoid. I'm leaning toward paranoid because, really, self-centered people don't want to believe they're being compared to Anne Ramsey."

Regina couldn't decide if she wanted to slap Emma, or go with the fist like the last time.

"Because I'm sorry, you are reading way too much into a kids' movie," Emma went on. "I just thought Henry would love it. Which, I will remind you, he did. If nothing else, I thought you'd enjoy seeing him happy."

"Not at my expense!"

It was then that Regina saw the sympathy in Emma's eyes. She hated seeing it. She wanted to claw it out.

"I suppose, looking back now, I can see the parallel," Emma admitted. "But this wasn't intended to be an attack on you." Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh, wow, I get it now."

"Get what?"

"The way Henry treats you," Emma said. "I never saw how much it truly upsets you until just now. Your husband abandoned you and your son hates you. You really feel like you can't trust anyone, can you?"

"I do not need your psychoanalysis," Regina retorted, folding her arms across her chest.

"Whatever your life has taught you, Regina, not everyone is out to get you. You can lower the gates every so often, you know."

Regina turned on her heel and walked away before she got into a physical altercation outside her son's bedroom.

"I'm not out to get you," Emma said.

Opening her bedroom door, Regina went inside and slammed the door behind her. It was only then that she realized she was crying.

* * *

"Ah, Sheriff Swan, how lovely it is to see you again."

Emma regarded Mr. Gold warily. It had been a tense Thursday morning. Regina hadn't looked at her or spoken to her that morning. Henry had been oblivious, at least. He had just talked at length about the movie last night. It was nice to hear him go a half-hour without mentioning Operation Cobra. Emma had smiled a lot during the conversation, but she also wondered about Henry's relationship with Regina. After last night, Emma considered for the first time that Henry's animosity toward Regina made her defensive and paranoid, which worsened her relationship with her son, which increased his animosity, which increased her paranoia . . . like a perpetual motion machine, the two fed off each other endlessly, making a bad situation worse every day.

She wondered if there was anything she could do about it.

"Good morning, Mr. Gold," she said.

"I wanted to congratulate you, by the way," he said jovially.

"On what?"

"Why, on your new relationship with the Mayor, of course. I wish you both the best."

Emma gaped at him. "You mean our working relationship?" she finally asked.

"I must confess, Sheriff," he said quietly, as if in confidence, "that word of your involvement with Regina has spread quickly."

"WHAT involvement?"

He chuckled. "No point in denying it, Emma. Everyone knows how you and the Mayor had dinner together last night at Granny's Diner, then went to a movie afterwards. AND that you're currently living together. It was absurdly easy to connect the dots. Fear not, Sheriff, it's the twenty-first century. No one will care that you're dating Regina."

Emma's brain shut down. She stared right through Mr. Gold. _Wha . . . no . . . eh . . . er . . . does not compute . . ._

If she'd been able to pay the least bit of attention to her surroundings, she might have noticed that Mr. Gold's smile bordered on malicious.

"Another time, Sheriff. Please do give your girlfriend my best."

Emma never even noticed him leave. She just stood there. Slowly her mind rebooted itself. _That's ludicrous. He's just messing with me. All we did was have dinner! And then we went to a drive-in movie – which is apparently one of Ruby's favorite makeout spots. And then we drove home together. That's all._

_Oh . . . FUCK._

* * *

Regina thought it quite odd when Emma entered her office backwards, like she had turned her head to watch some enormous conflagration but her feet were still carrying her in the other direction.

"Despite what you may have heard, Sheriff," she observed acidly, "I am not a Gorgon. You will not turn to stone if you look me in the eyes." Although it would be nice if Regina could do that.

Emma turned around, and Regina was startled by the paleness of her cheeks. "Has . . . " She coughed to clear her throat. "Has anyone been behaving _differently_ around you today?"

Regina blinked. "What on Earth do you mean?"

"I had a run-in with Mr. Gold."

"Scared you, did he?" Regina said, smirking.

Emma swallowed visibly. "Yeah, he – he seems to think we're sleeping together."

Regina had witnessed everything, much of it by her own hand. None of these things had ever caused all the synapses in her brain to misfire. That did.

"Huh?"

If not the most intelligent thing Regina had ever uttered, it was the most appropriate.

"He thinks," Emma repeated with exaggerated slowness, "that we're sleeping together."

Regina laid her hands flat on the desk in front of her, and then stared at them for a minute while her higher cognitive functions came back online. "What did you _do?_"

"Me?"

"Well, it had to have been you! How could I have ever created such an impression?"

"Hey, I wasn't the one who suggested we eat out last night!"

Regina gaped at her. "Excuse me?"

Emma threw her hands in the air. "Everyone is apparently talking about dinner last night. And the movie afterwards. And the fact that I'm living with you."

"You are NOT living with us," Regina retorted, deeply offended. "You are a guest. A very, VERY temporary guest. And this is preposterous!"

"Yeah, you and I both know that," Emma said. "But everyone else? They all saw _dinner and a movie_. What the hell screams 'date night' more than dinner and a movie?"

Regina was flabbergasted.

"Me living at your house isn't helping either. It looks like U-Haul Syndrome."

"You what?"

Emma sighed. "You are so out of touch some times. It's a classic stereotype where two lesbians move in together after only a few dates."

"Does that really happen?"

"Well, how should I know? I don't know any lesbians! Possibly because _I'm not a lesbian either_."

"Neither am I!" Regina snapped. This was humiliating! That the town thought she . . . and Emma . . . she shuddered.

"And if I was," Emma added, "I sure as hell wouldn't be dating YOU."

"Of cour – what's that supposed to mean?"

Emma looked thrown off. "What?"

Regina stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "What do you mean you wouldn't be dating ME? I bet a lot of women would LOVE to date me."

"Regina – "

"Please, you'd be lucky to date me."

"Regina, I realize arguing with me is your instinctive response," Emma said, exasperated, "but could we please skip arguing over whether or not I should sleep with you?"

THAT brought Regina back to her senses. "Right. Of course," she replied. "You said Mr. Gold told you this? Have you discussed it with anyone else?"

"Well, no."

Relief blossomed in Regina's chest. "That's it then. I warned you what a superlative enemy he would make, Emma. Clearly he heard about last night, and then he spun some tall tale about the local gossip to mess with your head!" She shook her head and flashed her best condescending smile. "Oh, Sheriff, are you so easily manipulated?"

"Yeah, but – "

"But WHAT?"

Emma shrugged. "But nothing. I told you there were a lot of people at the drive-in last night. I thought maybe they . . . followed us from the diner."

Regina chuckled. "And you said I'M paranoid? Just forget about it, Sheriff. And do your job."

"Right," Emma muttered, turning to leave.

"And Emma?"

"What?"

"I – I hope we can forget about the things we said last night," Regina said softly. "After the movie. I may have – leapt to conclusions."

The words did NOT come easily, but the entire exchange had been quite upsetting, and in the light of day, Regina had acknowledged that any link between her and "Mama Fratelli" was tenuous at best. Besides, Emma HAD wanted to go to the drive-in even before she knew what was playing.

Emma looked shocked. "Wow," she said. "That's, um, very civilized of you."

"Mm-hm. Do you wish to apologize for anything as well?"

"Like what? Saying I'm not out to get you? I wouldn't call that an insult," Emma said dryly.

Regina glared at her. "You said I was self-centered and paranoid."

Emma shrugged. "If you can honestly tell me you're NOT self-centered, I'll take it back . . . but okay, maybe you're not as paranoid as I thought."

That wasn't quite what Regina had expected, but Emma walked out before she could press the sheriff.

And okay, maybe she was a LITTLE self-centered.

To be continued . . .


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note – for the purposes of this story, everything leading up to the election results should be considered canon. Also, everything we've seen happen in the Enchanted Forest should also be considered canon. As for events in Storybrooke subsequent to the election, well, some things happened and some things didn't.

* * *

Chapter 5

"That was really impressive, kid," Emma said brightly. "Why didn't you tell me you could play that well?"

Henry shrugged, but he had just played something on the piano that was a lot better than anything SHE could do. Even on Guitar Hero.

"Henry is a gifted student," the man on the piano bench next to him said, adjusting his glasses. "He's learned more in two years than some of my other students have in four. Granted, he still has a long way to go if he wants to consider playing professionally some day, but – "

"Of course he's good," Regina interrupted. "My son is extremely talented."

Emma glanced at her.

"Our son," Regina muttered.

Henry's teacher looked confused.

"Thank you again, Mr. Linus," she added. "Until Tuesday?"

"Yes, of course," he said, showing himself out.

Emma felt uncomfortable. She was proud of Henry, and justifiably so, but she could tell from the look on his face that he didn't ENJOY playing piano. And Regina either didn't notice or didn't care. But the state wasn't taking people's kids because they made them take piano lessons, either.

(She knew all the reasons the state moved in. She'd heard them all.)

Still, she poked the tiger anyway.

"Henry, do you actually LIKE playing piano?" she asked.

"No."

"Henry," Regina said, looking startled. "You've never said you don't – "

"I've told you over and over again!"

"You say you hate practicing piano, but I thought you enjoyed playing – "

"How many times have you heard me play the piano for _fun_?"

Uncomfortable? Emma was practically squirming now.

"I wanted to try out for soccer," Henry added, "but she wouldn't let me."

"_What?_ You've _never_ expressed an interest in sports! You don't even watch sports on television! You've certainly never wanted to try out for it," Regina replied.

"She's lying," Henry said, shooting Emma a glance.

"I am not!" Regina insisted.

For an instant, Emma thought Henry had been right about time being frozen all along. Because the next few seconds seemed to grow impossibly long. She took in Henry's body language and the look of pure shock and dismay on Regina's face, and knew with certainty that he wasn't telling the truth.

And she could lie too. She could take his side. Christ, every instinct she owned was telling her to defend Henry and get in Regina's face like usual.

"Henry," Emma said softly, "are you sure you're remembering that correctly?"

Whatever he read in her face, it deflated him. And it killed her to put that slump in his shoulders, but she couldn't stoop to such hypocrisy, not after what she told Henry after the sheriff's debate. "Maybe not," he admitted.

Emma nodded. "Why don't you run upstairs? I'll be there in a minute."

Henry got off the piano bench and shuffled upstairs.

She sighed. Damage control time.

Regina sat heavily in a nearby chair. Too heavily, almost as if her legs had given way beneath her. Which, come to think of it, they might have. "Regina?"

"He hates me," Regina said.

_Well, yeah, you hadn't noticed?_ Wisely, however, Emma didn't say that out loud.

"I thought, I don't know, it was just a part of growing up. Or that he just liked you better," she continued. "I certainly didn't think he hated me enough to lie, just to make me look like a bad mother."

Emma thought Regina looked dazed. She was probably in shock, because Emma couldn't fathom her saying such things to HER. "Look, uh, just wait here for a minute," she told Regina. "I'll go talk to the kid, see what the problem is. I mean, I'm sure it's fixable."

Regina didn't even answer her. She appeared to have found a spot on the wall that looked really interesting.

The walk up the stairs seemed to take extra long. She'd never been in this position with Henry before. She'd never been, well, the disciplinarian. Regina seemed to take to that role so easily. But she needed to understand where Henry was coming from. Children didn't hate their mothers THIS much for no reason. Children weren't so ready to believe their mothers were evil queens and witches and monsters. She'd been with them for over three days, and so far Emma had seen nothing that came close to explaining it.

Emma knocked on his bedroom door. "Henry?"

"Yeah?" He sounded listless.

She came in and found him sitting on his bed, staring at his hands. "Henry," she sighed. "What happened back there?"

"You were supposed to protect me," he said. "And you didn't."

"You lied, Henry. And you wanted me to go along with it."

"So? She deserves it."

"Henry, you JUST told me last week that there are certain things the good guys don't do," Emma reminded him as she sat next to him. "You said you were proud of me when I told the truth at the debate. Well, how was that different from what happened downstairs?"

Henry looked at her. "Because it was me," he said quietly.

Oy. "Henry, you've got to be straight with me," Emma told him. "Why do you hate Regina so much? She's got her faults, sure. She's too strict and she doesn't listen to you enough. But when I was your age, I would have killed to have a family adopt me and give me the life you have. What aren't you telling me? I know she hasn't abused you."

"She's . . . " Henry sighed. "She's not my real mom. She never told me. I had to find out myself."

Emma nodded. He'd never said how he found out. And considering Regina didn't strike her as the kind of person who would tell her child that, this made sense. "How did you find out?"

"About a year ago," he told her softly, "I came to the mayor's office at City Hall after school, and she was having an argument with Mr. Gold. Something about all he'd done for her. And I realized they were talking about me."

His words chilled her. It seemed like every time she opened a door into the past in Storybrooke, Mr. Gold was lurking on the other side. Worse was the realization that Gold had "arranged" Henry's adoption, probably the same way he'd "arranged" for Ashley to give him her baby. Which meant the adoption probably wasn't entirely legal.

And that was why Regina was so paranoid. She was probably terrified that Emma would find out the circumstances of Henry's adoption. And if the adoption wasn't legal, then Regina had no right to Henry, and custody would revert back to . . . her.

_Holy crap._

"So that Saturday," Henry was still saying, "I searched her study, and I found the adoption certificate in the back of one of her drawers. That was when I knew. She wasn't my real mother. She was a fake. My real mom was somewhere else." He glanced up at her. "I knew I needed to find you."

"Uh-huh," Emma said, unable to be more articulate because she was still reeling from her discovery.

"I knew Regina wouldn't tell me anything, so I had no choice. I went to the pawnshop and asked Mr. Gold who my mother was."

Emma stared at him, aghast. "You didn't make some kind of _deal_ with him, did you?"

Henry shook his head. "He just gave me your information. He said something about my mother cheating him on an agreement, and helping me was just evening the score."

"Out of curiosity," Emma asked, an unwelcome new thought popping into her head, "did you start thinking Regina was the Evil Queen before or after you found out you were adopted?"

"After," he admitted. "Ms. Blanchard gave me the book a couple months later."

That was what she'd been afraid of. Not only had Gold procured Henry for Regina ten years ago, but also he had revealed the secret during an argument that had conveniently been at the right time and place for Henry to overhear it. AND he sold Mary the Book. Had he suspected Mary would give it to Henry? Maybe even planted the seed without her knowing it? It wouldn't surprise her.

Taken as a whole, it suggested that Gold had a very unhealthy fixation on Regina's relationship with Henry, almost like he _wanted_ them to grow apart. But why?

_Maybe he was hoping Henry would find you and bring you back._

No. It was unlikely, and WAY too disturbing to even consider. Regina was probably the only person in Storybrooke with enough power to break a contract with Gold and get away with it. He was probably trying to hurt Regina without her knowing it. If that were the case, he'd succeeded all too well.

"I guess I'm in trouble?" Henry asked.

Emma sighed. "It's not for me to say. If you promise me that you'll never try lying to me again, then you and me, we're good."

"I promise," he said quickly.

"Good. Why don't you just stay here and let me see if Regina is willing to let you off with an apology."

Henry looked a little mutinous at the suggestion of telling Regina he was sorry, but Emma shot him a look and the hint of rebellion disappeared.

Emma got up. "Just . . . try to sound sincere, okay?"

* * *

"Are you okay? You look a little nauseous."

"I'm fine," Regina said, trying to sound cool and dispassionate in order to hide the raging turmoil within.

A minute ago she'd been upstairs, listening. Whatever Emma might learn from her son, Regina wanted to know every word. She couldn't trust Emma not to hold some of it back, either for her own advantage or out of some misguided sense of pity.

What she'd heard had by turns alarmed and infuriated her. _That gap-toothed, double-dealing IMP!_ Regina had never understood how Henry learned the truth about his adoption, and naturally he'd refused to share. To think that Gold had _destroyed_ her relationship with her son with just two strokes – the little SHIT!

Much more worrisome was the fact that, assuming she had two brain cells to rub together, Emma had probably connected the dots and realized that Gold had been the "procurer" of a baby for Regina to adopt. Emma already knew that he bought and sold unwanted children in transactions of dubious legality. A half-decent attorney could take the facts in Emma's possession and easily persuade a judge that the adoption was invalid.

Regina had believed that, with time, she could win Henry back. Now, in the space of ten minutes, she felt like they were miles apart, with him moving farther still at increasing speeds. All Emma had to do was cut the last cord tying them together, the adoption papers that said he was her son, and it would be over. It was only a matter of time.

Unless, unless . . . unless Emma didn't.

Emma had sworn up and down for weeks that she had no plans to retake custody from Regina. And naturally Regina had not believed her. She still didn't. Not unless what Emma had done a few minutes ago had meant something.

Henry's lie had stunned her. Emma believing her had taken her legs out from under her. It was so completely unexpected. Emma had every incentive to take Henry's side, no reason to take hers. True, the moment held no true significance, it wasn't like they had some kind of wager. But symbolically, it had been an enormous shock. Enormous enough that for the first time, Regina was willing to entertain the notion of believing her.

Especially since the latest development upstairs. Emma now had the power to permanently sever Regina from Henry. If Regina threw up the walls between birth mother and son once more, Emma could bring those walls crashing back down again. She could kill Emma, but easier said than done without her powers. And her talents had always lain in manipulation, not brute force.

No, if she continued to allow Emma access to Henry, only now with her blessing, then the sheriff might be lulled. Why take the whole pie when you're already getting a piece? The vinegar hadn't succeeded; it was time for the honey.

It might work, even if Emma wasn't telling the truth when she said she wasn't taking Henry away.

And if she was, well, Regina wouldn't want to do anything to change her mind. It was ironic, but at this juncture, not trusting Emma was more dangerous than trusting her (a little).

"It's just a lot to take in," Regina added.

"Sure," Emma said. "Look, if he says he's sorry, can we skip the grounding part and move on?"

Regina chuckled. "What makes you think I have any power to keep him home anyway? Fine, if he apologizes and means it, I'll overlook it this once."

Emma nodded. "I'll make sure he understands that." She turned to head back upstairs.

"Emma, before you go?"

"Yeah?"

"I trust no one has repeated Mr. Gold's claims within your hearing?"

Emma suddenly looked very relieved. "No," she said. "No one said a thing today."

Regina smirked. "I told you not to believe him."

"I guess not. Still, why make up something like that?"

"Well," Regina replied, her mood darkening, "sometimes he just says things to hurt people."

* * *

"Emma," Dr. Hopper said, startled. "I didn't know you were coming by my office."

"Yeah, I didn't know until a little while ago myself," Emma said. "You got a minute?"

Once they were in private, Emma told him what Henry had shared with her. "He's told you all of that, right?"

Archie nodded gravely. "Yes, it was in one of our first sessions. It can be very traumatic for young children to discover they're adopted, especially when they learn the truth from something, or someone, other than their parents. I was just starting to help him process this discovery when he first began discussing the Book."

"The Book," Emma repeated in tones that were less than reverential.

"Well, suddenly that became a larger priority," he told her. "Having a child tell you he's adopted is one thing. Having him tell you that the entire world is a made-up construct, and that his mother is an evil sorceress, well, that's a different kettle of fish. Until I could convince Henry that Regina wasn't an Evil Queen capable of monstrous acts, he was never going to accept that she was still his mother, adoption or not."

"So you'd say the Book was particularly ill-timed for his treatment."

"Unfortunately, yes. He had begun reading it at a time when he felt that his mother had been lying to him his whole life. So his mind was particularly receptive to the notion that Regina was doing the same thing to the whole town." He paused. "Which has a few grains of truth, admittedly," he added dryly.

She chuckled. "She does fit the part, doesn't she?" Then she hesitated. "So you knew Mr. Gold was involved in the adoption process then?"

Dr. Hopper grimaced. "A singular man, isn't he?"

"Mary bought the Book from his pawnshop."

"Really?"

"Yep. A couple months before she gave it to Henry."

Archie looked at her very closely. "You're leading up to something here, aren't you?"

"Doc, doesn't it seem odd to you? Gold – one of only two people who knows the truth of Henry's adoption – has an argument with Regina about the adoption conveniently timed for Henry to hear it. At almost the same time, he sells Mary the Book, the same book which you've said came into his life at _just_ the wrong time. It's almost like he was counting on Mary to give it to Henry."

"You're saying he's trying to drive Regina and Henry apart?" Archie asked. "It's a bit convoluted, don't you think?"

"He's a crooked man."

"Well, you're right, the timing _is_ troubling. But what could be his motivation?"

Emma shrugged. "Henry did say that Gold gave him my identity because Regina tried to cheat him."

"Yes, and his little empire is practically built on paper," he replied. He hesitated. "Emma, you've clearly thought this through by yourself. Why are you asking me?"

"I . . . Archie, I want you tell me what I'm about to say sounds crazy."

"I'm a licensed psychologist, Emma. 'Crazy' isn't in my vocabulary."

"Right." She looked down. "What if Gold knew Henry would come looking for me? What if he _wanted_ me in Storybrooke?"

Archie leaned back. "What?"

"I'm already entertaining the notion that Gold is trying to make Regina suffer by interfering in her relationship with Henry. Archie, no one has enjoyed my time here in Storybrooke less than Regina has. It's not a stretch to consider that he brought me here to accomplish just that purpose."

"But now you're Sheriff, and after what you said at the debate? Even if you're right, and that's a huge if, his plan seems to have backfired."

"No, it hasn't," she said heavily. "I found out afterwards that he _wanted_ me to accuse him of setting the fire. He said it guaranteed my victory. And . . . I owe him a favor."

"Oh no, Emma, you didn't."

"I didn't have a choice! He was going to take Ashley's baby! So I swapped, her freedom for mine. I certainly never imagined at the time that I'd become Sheriff!"

Archie frowned. "But maybe he did."

Emma stared back at him. "Why? He couldn't have known that Graham . . . "

No. That wasn't possible.

_Inducing a heart attack isn't so hard with the right poison. You've seen it before. Remember that one fugitive last October? Killed his grandmother for the inheritance?_

"Tell me I'm crazy, Doctor."

Archie shook his head. "I told you, it's not in my vocabulary. And even if I wasn't a doctor . . . I might not tell you that anyway."

* * *

Dinner was as tense and awkward as the first night had not been. Henry may have technically apologized, and Regina had technically forgiven him, but there was a mutual hostility that lurked underneath the surface. Emma had problems of her own to mull over. She had reason to believe that Mr. Gold was meddling with Regina's family, helping to spread discord and strife. But she had no proof, and watching mother and son feud without being able to do anything about it made her feel guilty.

Plus, judging by the looks Henry was giving HER, he was a little disappointed in her. Which was fine, because she was a little disappointed in him.

All in all, dinner had all the right ingredients to be a nightmare even more perfect than Regina's stew.

"May I please be excused?" Henry finally asked.

"You may," Regina said evenly.

"I'll see you before you go to bed, Henry," Emma added.

"S'okay," he mumbled without enthusiasm before leaving the dining room.

Regina was up and out of her chair as soon as Henry was gone, startling Emma. She went right for the sideboard, filled a tumbler almost to the brim with cider that Emma knew to be stronger stuff than what the local farmer's market sold, and drank deeply.

"Regina?" Emma asked.

Regina paused. "Sorry," she then said. "Forgot you were there for a moment."

"Forgot, or wishful thinking?"

"Believe it or not, Sheriff, but you are not the person I am most upset with tonight," Regina replied.

If Emma hadn't been sitting there for the past hour, she wouldn't have believed it. "I can get out of your way – "

"No," Regina said, waving a hand downwards. "Stay. Otherwise I might drink myself into oblivion."

Emma stood up and walked over to where Regina was. "Then I guess I should remove some of the temptation," she said, pouring a glass of her own. "If it makes you feel any better, I think I've made up my mind about what kind of a mother you are."

Regina snorted. "The worst kind, apparently, if my son loathes me."

"Actually, I don't think you're that bad."

"Please, Sheriff Swan. One more surprise today and my chest might explode."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, you've got your faults," Emma told her.

"Do tell me what they are," Regina said wearily as she returned to her seat. "You know how highly I value your op – " And then oddly, she stopped and gestured for Emma to go on.

A bit mystified, Emma took a drink of her cider. Wow, it really did push back. "You won't ease up on him. He's ten, Regina. Sometimes you come across like Wicked Stepmother, not Evil Queen. You're not his jailer, and you're not his master. Have you ever tried using the carrot instead of the stick?"

Regina glared at her. "I expect the best from Henry."

"You expect perfection from Henry, and then you throw a hissy fit when you don't get it," Emma said, feeling her tongue loosen already.

"_Hissy fit?_"

Emma shrugged. "It's what I see. It's great you're giving him every advantage, but not if you beat him over the head with it if he doesn't measure up."

Regina took another drink, set her glass down, and folded her arms. "What else?"

"Henry does activities based on what you want him to do, not what he actually likes to do."

"Is this that piano again?"

"He's been playing for two years, and you never realized he didn't like it?" Emma asked incredulously. "How did you miss that? Oh yeah, and that reminds me. Henry says you leave him alone in the house for hours every Saturday. What is that about?"

"What is WHAT about?" Regina replied. "I'm the mayor. I have a very busy schedule, including Saturdays, and – "

"You're lying. If you were lying any more badly than that, your pants would be on fire," Emma said.

Regina's face grew pale. She glanced down. "If you _must_ know, I was with Graham."

"Graham?"

"Yes, Emma," Regina said, her cheeks turning from white to red in a heartbeat. "Should I spell it out for you?"

Emma sucked in a breath. She'd already known about Regina's midnight trysts with her predecessor. Why would it surprise her that Saturday was also Regina's weekly booty call?

"Well then," Emma finally replied, seeing Regina had nothing to add. "I guess you can spend Saturdays with your son again, since you obviously won't be spending any romantic afternoons with the Sheriff anymore."

"Didn't you know? It's a job requirement. I hope you have prior experience."

Emma had prior experience with a lot of things. She'd experimented with one thing after another as a teenager, whether it was alcohol, drugs, women or men. Emma figured it had nothing to do with sexuality, and everything to do with aimlessness and boredom. "Don't even joke about that," Emma said. "Not if you don't want a mental image that'll give you a worse headache than your hangover tomorrow."

Regina smiled nastily. "True. You're probably lousy at it."

"We were talking about our son, not our sex lives."

"Right," Regina muttered. "Yes. Continue telling me how much better I could be at mothering."

"That was basically it," Emma told her. "Stop riding him like he's supposed to build the Pyramids. Let him try some activities that HE wants to do. Be his friend a little more, and his boss a little less." She took another drink and then said something she wouldn't have said two days ago. "And maybe do a better job of hiding the Book next time."

Regina's eyes widened. "Henry wouldn't be happy if he heard you saying that," she said slowly.

"Well, maybe if you let him try a few things that he might like, his world wouldn't revolve around that Book and we could have a conversation about something else besides it."

Regina set her glass down, having polished off the dregs. "I never considered that," she admitted. "But it's out of my hands now. HE'S done a much better job of hiding the Book than I did. I can't find it anywhere." She looked Emma in the eye. "I thought maybe you had it."

Emma frowned. "Well, I don't."

"Hm."

"You don't believe me?"

"Where else would he hide it?"

The castle. But that was a betrayal of Henry's trust that Emma couldn't abide by. "I'm not sure."

Regina shrugged. "He'll outgrow it eventually."

"And you're okay with 'eventually', even if that's another year or two of him believing you're the Wicked Witch of the West?" Emma asked.

"What's a couple years in this town?" Regina said cryptically.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you should have a second glass."

* * *

"Knock, knock."

"Who's there?" Emma muttered to herself. _The local sociopath. The local sociopath who? The local sociopath you owe a favor to._

Mr. Gold strolled into her office and took a seat opposite her desk. "Slow Friday morning?"

"Slow every morning. I don't see _many_ criminals in Storybrooke," Emma said pointedly.

"We are a peaceful hamlet, Sheriff," he agreed with what she supposed was a happy smile. She hated it.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, you can," he said. "You can stop believing I'm something I'm not."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He tapped on the floor with his cane. "I'm told you had a very interesting conversation yesterday with the good Dr. Hopper."

She stared at him. "What makes you say that?"

"Oh, I heard something. I've got ears everywhere, Sheriff Swan."

"Or you saw me go into his office."

"Or that," he admitted. "Still, I hate that you think I have some personal vendetta against Mayor Mills. Or that I would stoop so low as to sabotage a child's relationship with his mother."

Emma couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Anything I discussed with Dr. Hopper was a private conversation. Only he and I would know what we talked about."

Gold shrugged. "And yet I seem to have an inkling as well. Since we both know you never said anything about it to me . . ."

He was implying that Hopper had ratted her out after she left his office yesterday. It would be patently false if she could think of an alternate answer to how Gold knew what was said.

"I don't like what you're suggesting, and I don't like you," Emma said.

"Now, don't say that," he replied, looking hurt.

"You're smug, you're arrogant, your smile is so creepy that it probably scares children, everyone in this town is afraid of you, and oh yeah, you buy and sell babies," Emma shot back. "If I wanted to have dealings with someone like you, I would have stayed in Boston and sought out the Irish mob."

His smile barely twitched, but his eyes darkened with hostility. "You won't get votes if you talk that way to all your constituents, Sheriff Swan."

"Is there a purpose to your visit, or are you just here to make my skin crawl?"

He picked imaginary lint off his sleeve. "I just wanted you to know that you're completely wrong about me, and that if you continue spreading false accusations about me, you may find out just how incredibly wrong you are."

Emma got up from her chair. "Are you threatening me?"

"Threatening you? Sheriff, I'm only giving you some information. Oh, and speaking of which . . . " He reached into his inside jacket pocket. "I thought you might like to know that I've decided how you can repay me."

Emma's hand dropped to her holster. "Maybe you should take your hand back out of your pocket – slowly."

"My goodness, Sheriff," Gold replied. "I'm certainly not going to harm someone who owes me a debt. Seems wasteful." But he did as he was told, removing a white index card as he did so.

"What's that?" she asked.

"A customer. You'll be delighted to know, by the way, that I won't ask you to compromise your office OR your morals. Actually," he said, "the one doing a favor here is me." He handed her the card.

Emma looked at it. There was only a name and a phone number. "Mallory Audley? Who's she?"

"Ms. Audley is one of Storybrooke's several practitioners at law. She has an office near City Hall, for obvious reasons."

"Why the hell would I need an attorney?" Emma asked suspiciously. "I thought you said I wouldn't have to break the law."

He chuckled. "Actually, criminal law is not her specialty, Sheriff. Ms. Audley is perhaps the best divorce lawyer in town."

Emma was even more bewildered by this turn of events than she was bothered by the dread gnawing at her belly. She didn't like this one bit. She might even have preferred being asked to look the other way while he committed some crime. Why the hell would she need to speak to a _divorce lawyer_? The only married couple she even knew were David and Kathryn.

"I can see I will have to spell it out for you, Sheriff," Gold said. "Tell me, what kind of disputes do divorce lawyers most often resolve for their clients?"

"Well, the division of property," Emma answered slowly, "and . . . "

And_ child custody agreements._

"There goes the light bulb," Gold muttered as a look of dawning horror spread across her face.

"You want me to call an attorney who specializes in family law," Emma said.

"No, I want you to make an appointment to see her at her office. Today. Lunch, maybe?"

"And Regina will find out about it."

"I imagine so. She seems to know everything."

And when Regina learned that the unmarried Emma Swan spent her lunch hour in the office of a family law specialist, her conclusion would be that Emma had gone there to discuss filing for custody of Henry. Hell, _anybody_ would come to that conclusion, it was the only logical one. But Emma had promised Regina twenty times that she wasn't in Storybrooke to take Henry away from her. Regina would think every one of those promises had been a lie, that her paranoia had been completely justified. Her vendetta would flare up even hotter than it had ever been before, her anger fueled by betrayal and desperation.

"I'll tell her it had nothing to do with Henry," Emma told him.

Mr. Gold smiled at her. "And she will believe you – why exactly?"

Her dismay grew, because he was absolutely right. Regina would assume that any explanation was another lie. And if she'd known about what Henry had told her just yesterday afternoon, her credibility would be even more nonexistent. "Why? Why are you making me do this?"

"Well, Sheriff, maybe I'm feeling a wee bit regretful for my involvement in the mayor's adoption," he said. "Clearly she's not the one who was meant to raise him." He paused. "Or perhaps Storybrooke just doesn't feel the same without you and the mayor at each other's throats."

"So what, I'm your decoy?" Emma burst out. "You think we'll be so distracted by this that we won't pay attention to whatever you're up to?"

"Child custody disputes can turn SO ugly, Sheriff," he replied, standing up. "You'll be too distracted to remember to brush your teeth."

"There will BE no child custody dispute," she pointed out, "because I'm not going to retain this woman."

"Then the mayor will retain her, and she'll preemptively take YOU to court, and she'll win, and you'll never see the boy again," Gold responded. "Take my advice, Sheriff. This is going to happen. You should begin planning strategy with Ms. Audley today."

Helplessly Emma watched him leave. She wasn't even _ready_ to raise a ten-year-old boy! She could barely handle being in one place for so long. She'd make a total botch of it, she knew it. Assuming Regina didn't kill her first.

There had to be another way.

But by the time Emma reluctantly left for her appointment, she couldn't think of one.

To be continued . . .


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Mallory had never met the new Sheriff, but she'd heard _oodles_ about her. She was curious to see what she was like, but she was positively _salivating_ to hear what Emma Swan had to say. Mallory was quite certain the Sheriff was unmarried and that her only family in Storybrooke was Henry Mills, the boy she'd given up for adoption. The only possible explanation was that Swan wanted to regain custody of the boy. And the idea of going up against dear Regina in court . . . oh, what fun THAT would be.

Her first impression upon meeting Emma Swan was _That's the ugliest jacket I've ever seen on a woman._

"Ms. Audley," Emma said.

"Please, call me Mal, everybody does," Mallory said, pouring on the charm. Only her clients called her Mal. And Regina. "Have a seat."

Mallory sat back down and took a long, hard look at Emma. She was plainly nervous, probably because she was poking an eight-hundred pound gorilla with a stick if she planned to take Regina Mills to court. More than that, though, her body language indicated quite clearly that she didn't want to be there. Interesting.

"So, Sheriff Swan," Mallory said, tossing her blonde curls back, "how can I help you?"

Emma took a deep breath. "It's about my biological son, Henry. I need you to draw up some papers for me."

_Yes!_

* * *

The meeting with Regina went quite a bit differently. For starters, Regina almost broke her door.

"_What did she tell you?_"

The mayor was magnificent, truly. She was so incandescent with rage that she threatened to set Mallory's desk on fire. But she'd been "frenemies" with Regina long enough to detect the panic in her eyes that the mayor was just barely managing to control.

"Who?" she asked innocently.

Regina stormed forward and swept everything off Mallory's desk with one sweep of her arms. Maybe next she'd throw her down on the desk and have wild hatesex with her. THAT would be interesting.

"Emma. Swan," Regina snarled, leaning towards her. "She was here today. With you. I want you to tell me what she said!"

"Now, Regina, I know we're friends, but you know I can't violate attorney-client privilege."

"So she IS your client then?"

"Oops. Well, yes, she is. My bad," Mallory said in mock dismay.

Regina's hand shot out and grabbed Mallory by the blouse. "What does she want from you?"

"That's privileged, Regina. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough," Mallory replied, ignoring the hand clutching her clothes. "Although just between us, I can tell you we spent a lot of time talking about your son Henry. She really loves him, doesn't she?"

Shoving Mallory back into her chair, Regina leaned back and let loose a shriek of utter fury. Mallory was surprised a window didn't shatter.

And then, before Mallory knew it, she'd left the office, even angrier than she was when she came in.

Mallory smiled. She was SUCH a tease.

* * *

For every minute that went by without Regina making an appearance, the heavier the lead weight in her stomach felt. According to Henry, Regina was nearly always home in time to make dinner. That tonight was an exception couldn't be coincidental. It was for that very reason that Emma had dropped Henry off at Mary's apartment. She knew how bad that would look, in light of whatever Regina had heard today. It would look like Emma was already staking a claim on custody of her son. But it would be even worse for him to witness what could be an extremely ugly confrontation. Emma thought physical violence was a definite possibility, especially considering they'd already fought once before, back when she was a mere Deputy and not a pawn in small town power struggles.

If she could just get through to Regina in time, none of that would matter though. She was gambling for her life, by wagering her future.

If there was a silver lining to all of this, it was that Gold had phoned her a few hours ago and coldly informed her that she had fulfilled her end of the bargain. Emma thought he had sounded oddly dissatisfied. But then, after what he'd said about her meeting with Dr. Hopper –

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here tonight."

Emma nearly dropped dead of a heart attack. Wouldn't that be a riot? Two Sheriffs in a row dying of heart failure? She'd been so focused on the front door, and so wrapped up in her own thoughts, that she had never heard Regina approaching from behind. Spinning around, she took one look at Regina and her heart sank. Regina's eyes were red and much too wide, and her mouth was curled in a snarl that wouldn't have been out of place on the face of a vampire bat. She was extremely pale, and she trembled with a volcanic fury that was barely held in check.

Oh, and she had a gun.

"Regina – "

"I saw your car parked out front," Regina went on, "so I thought I'd surprise you. Did I succeed?"

Considering Emma's hand was STILL pressed to her heart, she'd say Regina had earned a perfect 10. "You have to let me – "

"I know I was surprised when Sydney dropped by my office this afternoon and told me he saw you leaving Mallory Audley's office today," Regina hissed. "Because there's no possible reason you might need to see a divorce lawyer. After all, you swore over and over again that you weren't planning to take Henry from me."

"I'm not," Emma said.

Regina pointed the gun at Emma's feet and pulled the trigger. The crack of the pistol was incredibly loud due to the acoustics in the foyer, but Regina didn't even flinch. Emma, meanwhile, leapt back several inches as the bullet barely missed her toes.

"It's amazing what people just leave lying around in a sheriff's office," Regina said.

"Regina, you are not letting me explain."

"Against my better judgment," Regina told her, her eyes growing increasingly murderous, "last night I debated trusting you just a _bit_. I thought about taking you at your word. Boy, when will I learn that trust is for suckers? When will I learn that the _only_ person I can count on is me?"

Emma had a feeling that Regina was about fifteen seconds away from shooting her. The consequences of such an act weren't even on Regina's radar. In Regina's mind, she'd already lost Henry anyway.

Understanding that words would be useless here, Emma instead took the folded-up pages from inside her jacket and shoved them in Regina's direction. "Here," she said hurriedly. "Read it."

"Have I been served?" Regina sneered. "Your last defiant act?"

"Shoot me all you like," Emma replied, "but first _read it_."

Regina ripped the papers out of Emma's hand. "On your knees," she ordered. "I won't let you trick me a second time."

"It's not a trick," Emma said, but she did as she was told.

Clumsily opening the paperwork without letting go of the gun, Regina tried to keep one eye on Emma while she read. But she quickly forgot about Emma. She even forgot about the gun as she brought the papers up to her face. "This is a Petition for Termination," she said dumbly.

Emma nodded.

"This is a voluntary Petition for Termination of your _parental rights_."

"Yeah."

Regina stared at her. "I don't understand."

Emma sighed. "Henry told me about you and Gold. He says he overheard a conversation where he learned Gold 'acquired' him for you ten years ago. A probate court might consider that to be an invalid adoption, you know."

Regina didn't answer her.

"I'm not ready to be his mother, Regina," Emma said. "I'm ready to be in his life, but mentally, I'm not yet equipped to do all the things you do for him. But I didn't know how else to make you believe that." She gestured at the pages. "It hasn't been filed yet. I'll leave that up to you. If you still don't believe me, you can file that with the Clerk's Office tomorrow morning, and in a couple weeks I'll have no standing to challenge the adoption."

"This is – I – why? Why now?"

Emma rubbed the back of her neck. "I owed Gold a favor after what happened with Ashley's baby. He told me I could repay him by being seen walking into Mal's office today."

Regina reached out a hand. "Wait, what?" Only then did she seem to realize it was the hand with the gun.

"Can I have that?" Emma asked.

"Not until you explain further." She sighed. "Oh, do stand up, you're hurting my neck."

Emma got to her feet. Hardwood floors looked swell and all, but they weren't made for kneeling on.

Regina breathed in deeply in an apparent attempt to calm herself. "Now, what does Gold have to do with this?"

"I told you, I owed him a favor."

"Who doesn't?" Regina snapped. "You're saying HE wanted you to sign over your parental rights? That makes no sense, Miss Swan."

"Emma."

"EMMA, explain further, and this time sensibly."

Emma glared at her. "No, all Gold wanted was for me to pay a visit to Mal's office during my lunch break."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "That's all?"

"Apparently it was enough," Emma said, looking pointedly at the handgun.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, here," Regina retorted, handing the firearm to Emma. She took it, put the safety on, and tucked it into the back of her jeans. "You're saying he wanted me to kill you."

"No. He DID want you to jump to the conclusion you did, but he thought it would lead to a long, drawn-out custody battle."

Regina nodded. "One big distraction then. From what, I wonder."

"I don't know," Emma said. "I don't like him, and he knows it. He hasn't exactly taken me into his confidences."

"So this," Regina said, holding up the legal document, "was actually your idea."

"Well, I didn't think you would ever TRULY believe me without some hard evidence," Emma told her. "Because, you know, you're paranoid."

Regina snorted.

"And frankly, it was the only thing I could think of that wouldn't lead to all-out war between us," Emma added. "It was a big risk, but I couldn't think of an alternative."

"Risk?"

Emma tucked her hands into her pockets and looked down. "I mean, I'm handing you a big bat to swing at me with. You could file that tomorrow morning, and I'd lose any legal right I have to visit Henry. You could probably even slap a restraining order on me."

Regina narrowed her eyes, and then she chuckled meanly. "Yes, that's true, couldn't I? I hadn't thought that far ahead."

Emma's blood turned cold. "Regina, please don't . . ."

"Why not?"

"Well, for starters, you could keep me away from Henry, but good luck keeping him away from me. And second," Emma warned, "even a private citizen can make an anonymous call to the state adoption agency about a possible illegal adoption ten years ago."

Regina narrowed her eyes. "So what, if you can't be his mother, neither can I? Is that your nuclear option?"

Emma didn't answer her.

The mayor didn't respond at first, studying her carefully. Then she smiled. "I think I'll just put this aside for a rainy day. In case you ever go back on your word."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Anyway, I have bigger fish to fry. And when I say fry, I mean burn to a blackened crisp," Regina said, her face quickly growing stormy again. "Mr. Gold has tested my patience for the last time."

"I guess he's an even more superlative enemy than you realized," Emma said, grinning.

"Yes, it appears we have that in common now," Regina replied sourly.

"And you know what they say about the enemy of my enemy."

"No, I'm trying very hard to forget what 'they' say," Regina said. "That being _said_, if I pay Mr. Gold's shop a visit tonight, perhaps you'd like to come along and – share enemies a little more."

"I would have come even if you didn't invite me," Emma said.

"Hmph. I'm sure you would. But we're NOT taking your car."

* * *

"Ms. Swan," Mr. Gold said as Emma entered his pawnshop alone. "What an unexpected pleasure."

"Why? You thought I might be dead?" Emma looked around his shop. "Don't you ever close? This isn't Las Vegas, you know."

He chuckled. "If only it were, Ms. Swan, there are all _sorts_ of deals to be made there. And as for your health and welfare, I will say that the worry did cross my mind. But I trusted you could handle yourself against . . . the . . . Mayor?"

"My ears are burning," Regina said drolly, having entered his shop while he spoke, causing him to trail off. "Was someone speaking about me?"

Mr. Gold looked at Regina, then back at Emma again, taking in the nearly identical smiles. "Well, well," he finally replied. "A détente?"

Regina approached him, Emma stepping back to grant her a clear path. "The sheriff has told me some very interesting things about your dealings."

"I hope she spoke fairly, just as I am always fair with my customers."

"If you mean did she speak truly, then I don't know," Regina said. "I was never a party to your little discussions. Emma tells me that she paid a visit to Mallory Audley today under duress because of some kind of verbal contract the two of you had."

Mr. Gold's eyes widened. "Did she now? Well, that sounds rather unlikely. What possible reason could I have for requiring Ms. Swan to speak with an attorney? What would that accomplish?"

Regina pressed against the display case between them. "You wanted me to think she was filing for custody of Henry. You assumed that our little rivalry would become a feud as historic as the Hatfields and McCoys," she answered, her smile belying the absolute fury in her eyes.

"Madame Mayor," Gold said smoothly. "You and I have known each other for years. Many, _many_ years. You've known our Sheriff for a few months, and those months haven't been good ones. Why would you choose to believe the things she says about me?"

"Because of this."

From inside her jacket, she drew the legal petition that Emma had given her, and tossed it in his direction.

He picked it up and glanced it, not giving any indication that he was surprised by what it said. "My, my, Ms. Swan," he said. "You've placed your head in the lion's jaws now, haven't you?"

"Cut the crap," Emma retorted. "Especially since you were hoping I'd end up in the lion's stomach instead."

"I didn't particularly appreciate it when you arranged for that fire, Gold," Regina said. "Being saved by our future Sheriff in front of everyone, it was all so . . . undignified. But _this_? Making me fear for my family's future?"

Then she slapped him across the face.

Mr. Gold gingerly touched his cheek where she had struck him. "I'll give you that one for free, Regina," he said coldly, "but if you want another, it's going to cost you." He glanced at Emma. "I'd ask you to arrest her for that unprovoked assault, Sheriff, but something tells me you wouldn't listen."

"I'd say it was provoked," Emma said, "and in the heat of passion. Something you always seem to have lacked, haven't you, Gold? Passion? You're as dry as the _books_ you sell."

"You'll forgive me if I'm not as demonstrative as some people," he replied, sliding the petition back in Regina's direction. "Volcanos are impressive and all, but they tend to fizzle out. Whereas a frigid, brutal winter can just seem to go on, and on, and on."

Regina sneered at him. "He's just a spider, Emma. Cut a few strings, and it all falls to pieces. He's _harmless_."

He only smiled at that. As it so often did, his smile gave Emma the creeps.

"I'm finished here. I've made my point," Regina went on, snatching up the legal papers. "You threaten me and mine again, Mr. Gold, and _that_ will cost you a whole lot more."

Smiling triumphantly, she turned and walked briskly out of the store.

He watched Emma as she calmly took a step in his direction. "Would you like to threaten me as well?"

"No, just warn you. I'll be back another time, Gold, and when I do, we're going to discuss that Book you sold Mary Margaret. You know which one I mean."

"A compendium of children's stories?" he asked incredulously. "Whatever could you mean?"

She smiled. "Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say. But I'll be back all the same." With a nod, she left just as Regina had, all swagger and strut.

Mr. Gold stood there for a moment, thinking. Then he picked up the phone. "Candace? Are you there?"

"Of course, Mr. Gold," she said sleepily. "Just dozing a little, it's a slow time of night."

"For you, perhaps," he replied. "For me – well, it appears we'll have to try Plan B."

"Oh?"

"Yes, it seems that Emma and Regina are growing closer. Unexpected, but it was always a possibility. Still it _does_ open up brand new opportunities for me. And you know how much I love new markets."

"So what did you need from me?"

"Just keep doing what you've been doing," he said. "But from now on, I want you to focus your attention on the mayor and the sheriff. I'd like to have an idea of everything they're up to, every word they say, just like last night when Emma was with the good doctor, and then today in Ms. Audley's office."

Candace chuckled airily. "Sounds like fun. Only, this won't cause too much of a delay, will it?" she asked, an undisguised longing in her voice.

"Not too much of one, no," he reassured her. "Soon this will all be over, and you can eat all the little boys and girls you like. Preferably starting with one Henry Mills."

"I've been rather famished for twenty-eight years, sir. I wouldn't mind having even a scrawny runt like him over for dinner."

"No, I don't suppose you would," Gold agreed. "Good night, Candace."

"Pleasant dreams, Dark One."

He hung up the phone and turned out the lights in his shop. Rumplestiltskin would be closing early; he had much to do.

* * *

"That felt very satisfying," Regina said as she walked down the sidewalk alongside Emma.

"Do you think he'll try something else?"

"I don't doubt it. He's a cockroach. But I stopped being afraid of things that scuttle in the dark a long time ago."

Emma nodded. "I was thinking, by the way. Maybe I should grab my things from the spare room and head back to Mary's tonight."

Regina looked at her. "Why?"

"Well, technically, I've only been staying with you so I could observe your interactions with Henry," Emma pointed out. "And I shared my conclusions with you last night. So you don't need to have me underfoot anymore."

"True," Regina said. "Then again, we DID agree to a week. I'm not someone who goes back on her word, Sheriff."

"And you don't mind sharing Henry with me another couple days?" Emma asked doubtfully.

Regina didn't answer at first. "I think," she said at length, "that you've earned it."

"Wow," Emma said, a little shocked.

"We worked well together in there," Regina continued. "I couldn't appreciate it before, since you always seemed to insist at working at cross purposes with me, but you are surprisingly competent at the things you do."

That sounded more like Regina.

"Who knows?" Regina said, smirking. "I might actually grow to like you."

Emma almost tripped on the sidewalk.

Regina shook her head, chuckling. If she'd known Emma would respond so easily to honey, she would have given up on the vinegar a long time ago. Emma wouldn't even realize that she was being gradually assimilated into the perfect little world that Regina had created there. Storybrooke was a lot like a hive, actually. You had workers, drones, and a single queen. Emma would make an excellent worker bee, once she accepted her place.

Regina would allow herself to trust Emma. But Regina would never like her. Regina would never become friends with her. It was merely part of the plan. A façade. It wasn't real.

_Just like Graham, right?_

She ignored the traitorous voice in the back of her head. Even if it did sound a little like Ms. Swan.

The End. (For now . . .)

Author's Note - Yes, I've read about "Miss Ginger", and the old witch we saw in the pilot. All will be explained. I think you can all guess who Mallory is, but in case you're wondering, Audley is the last name of a certain voice actress. I realize that this story is a little inaccurate when it comes to closed adoptions, but then, so is the show.


End file.
